


For Want of a Nail

by The_Lark



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lark/pseuds/The_Lark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Join Duncan on his quest for the perfect recruit!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Adventures of Elissa Sue

Chapter One: The Adventures of Elissa Sue

Elissa Cousland strutted into the main hall of Castle Cousland with the grace of a stalking panther. "You sent for me, Father?"

Teyrn Bryce brightened at the sight of his only daughter, as everyone always seemed to. "Oh, sorry pup, I didn't see you there. Don't know how I missed that aura of unearthly radiance that you're giving off right now. You remember my best buddy Arl Howe, right?"

Arl Howe gave her a coy grin and a low whistle. "Hey, sweetie, nice aura you've got there."

"Are you coming on to me?" Elissa responded, a frown marring her delicately beautiful face.

The arl's cheeks reddened. "Uh, of course not! I'm just, um…trying to find a girl for m-my son! Yeah, that's it."

Bryce coughed awkwardly. "Right. Anyway, pup, I summoned you here for a reason. I'm leaving you in charge of the castle while I go off to fight evil with my bro, here." He clapped the arl on the back.

Elissa's vibrant aquamarine eyes flashed with anger. "Are you crazy? You're leaving me behind? Everybody knows I'm the greatest warrior in Ferelden! Remember that time I single-handedly slew two high dragons and a horde of undead, armed only with a salad fork? Besides, you're going to need my help, since Arl Howe is clearly planning to betray you."

"I beg your pardon?" spluttered Howe nervously.

"Oh, come off it, Howe!" Elissa tossed her lustrous mahogany hair disdainfully. "You're clearly evil. I mean, come on, you're voiced by Tim Curry!"

Bryce surreptitiously elbowed his daughter. "What have I told you about spoilers?" he hissed.

"Fine, fine, sorry," she sighed.

"Now then, there's someone you should meet. Duncan!" Bryce called.

A dark, mysterious, and stoic man entered the room. "Hi, I'm Warden-Commander Duncan. I'm going to hang out here at the castle while your daddy and brother are gone."

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Arl Howe suddenly shrieked. "My brilliant bid for power, foiled after years of…!" He trailed off, glancing around the room awkwardly. "Um, I have to go now."

Elissa shook her head. "Daddy, can't you see he's up to something?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Bryce chuckled. "He's probably just off his meds again. Now, as I was saying, be polite to Duncan while we're away."

Elissa quirked a dark and elegant eyebrow. "Wait a minute, Duncan. If you're the commander of the Grey Wardens, shouldn't you be going with them to fight the darkspawn?"

"Hey, she's got a point there," Bryce noted. "Maybe you should ship out with my troops tonight."

"Why would I want to go fight off a Blight?" Duncan snickered. "I've got underlings for that! I'd much rather ride it out here. Bask in the lap of luxury for a while, maybe spend some quality time with Her Ladyship…" He sidled up to Elissa. "You got a boyfriend, hot stuff?"

"Sorry, Duncan, but you're not my type. I'd prefer a shy yet brave knight with an inferiority complex and a charming sense of humor."

"Damn!"

"Enough of this! Elissa, go tell Fergus it's time to head out," He shoved his daughter toward the door, slammed it shut, and bolted it behind her."

Elissa hadn't gotten two steps from the door when a redheaded knight tapped her on the shoulder. "Lady Cousland, your dog went on a rampage in the kitchen, and I offered to come find you. With your inherent virtue and sensitivity, I'm sure you've got what it takes to tame any beast."

"Of course, Ser Gilmore," Elissa smiled, revealing a set of dazzling white teeth.

When the pair entered the kitchens, they found an aged, weary-looking woman standing next to the larder. "Hi, Nan!" Elissa beamed. "Remember me, your old charge Elissa?"

"You again?" Nan groaned. "Look, just get out now! Maker help me, the whole reason I asked for a transfer to the kitchen was to get away from you!"

Elissa's adorable button nose crinkled with confusion. "Whatever do you mean? I was always a model child."

"Yes, yes, you learned how to change your own diapers at three months and how to solve differential equations at six months. Bloody know-it-all." The old woman rolled her eyes. "Just get the stupid dog out of there and go."

"No problem." Elissa opened the larder door to retrieve her beloved pet. "Come here, Laddie!"

Laddie bounded up to her, barking urgently.

"What's that, Laddie?"

"Ruff!"

You were defending the kitchen from giant rats? And Timmy fell down the well?"

"Maker's breath, even her dog is a know-it-all," grumbled Nan. "Go on and shoo, I think I hear your mom calling you."

"Okay, bye!" Elissa chirped obliviously, walking off the wonder dog trotting adoringly at her heels. As she rounded the corner on the way to her brother's quarters, she found her mother chatting with a friend.

"Hi, Mom, how's it going?" she greeted.

Her mother ignored her. "What are you doing home? I thought I told you to go out and look for a husband! What are you now, pushing nineteen? You should have at least four kids by now!"

"Sorry, Mom, but I'm waiting for Ser Right. You know, a shy yet brave knight with an inferiority complex and a charming sense of humor."

"Whatever. You'd better go find Fergus, that quest marker isn't going to move itself."

On the way to her brother's room, Elissa wandered through the library. There, she found her old tutor, Brother Aldous, giving lessons to a pair of bored young squires. "Oh, hello Lady Cousland. Would you care to give me a hand with this lesson on your family's history? I can't seem to get through to these kids, but with your angelic voice and unparalleled oratory skill, I bet you'll be able to."

"Certainly, Brother Alduous." She smiled serenely. "Well, boys, I come from a long line of awesome…

"Yes, the Couslands are pure, unmitigated awesome," Aldous piped up helpfully. "The Howes have always been their archenemies, and they kind of betrayed our country to an evil usurper a couple decades back…but don't worry, I'm sure they'd never do anything like that again."

Elissa sighed sadly, giving the old scholar a pat on the head. "You keep thinking that if it makes you feel better, old man."

Meanwhile, in another wing of the castle, Fergus Cousland was bidding his family farewell. "Don't worry, honey. I'm not going to die," Fergus assured his wife.

"I'm not worried about you, I'm worried about me!" Oriana replied urgently. "Please don't leave me and the kid alone with Tim Curry! You know it won't end well!"

"Oh, nonsense, you'll be perfectly safe. My teenaged sister will be here to take care of you. I know she may not look that scary, but she did fight off a horde of undead with her salad fork that one time."

"Damn straight!" The girl in question interjected from the doorway. "Don't worry, Fergus, I'll take good care of the family while you're gone. I just wish I could go with you. I'd rather not be stuck at home when all of this foreshadowing hits the fan."

Moments later, the teyrn and teyrna appeared. "Hi kids. We thought we'd swing by, you know, to get the whole family together one last time…er, that is, one last time today. Yeah, that's it."

In frustration, Elissa banged her perfectly proportioned head against the wall. "Maker's mercy, I clearly didn't inherit my unsurpassable cunning from any of you. I can't listen to any more of this, I'm going to bed." She waved over her shoulder. "It's been nice knowing you all."

Later that night, she awoke to the sound of frantic barking. "What is it, Laddie?"

"Ruff!"

"You say Arl Howe has decided to betray my father, lay siege to our castle, and murder the whole family?"

"Woof!"

She leapt out of bed with a victorious fist pump. "Finally! Some action! I thought those dialogue trees would never end!"

Laddie whined disapprovingly.

"Sorry, what I meant to say was, that monster! We've got to stop him, boy!" She shouldered her weapons, her face a stunning mask of righteous fury. Kicking the door open, she thundered her favorite battle cry. "LET'S GET DANGEROUS!" She nocked an arrow, drew her bowstring, and was about to turn the invaders into pincushions, when her parents' door suddenly swung open.

Teyrna Eleanor emerged in full battle gear, with a salad fork clasped in her hand. "Don't mess with Highever, punks!" she screamed, charging into the fray. Moments later, the would-be assassins lay bleeding on the floor.

Elissa goggled. "Mom? Did you just steal my bit?"

"It was my bit first," Eleanor smirked. "Now come on, sweetie, let's waste these scumbags!"

"Maybe we should check on Oriana and Oren first?"

"Okay." She opened the door. "Holy Maker! They killed my grandson! This doesn't make any sense! What would the man who is after my husband's title want to kill his legitimate heir?"

"Go figure that one, huh?"

The teyrna turned to her daughter. "Well, we'd better go find the Cousland family sword and shield, so you can use them to kill the creep who did this."

"But Mom, I'm an archer. Isn't there a Cousland family bow you could give me instead?"

"Sorry. If you wanted to fight with one of those, you should have been born a Dalish elf. Now go get the damn sword!"

"Aw, no fair…"

After grabbing the useless set of heirlooms, Elissa and her mother stumbled across Ser Gilmore and a troop of guards, preparing to defend the front door. "Your Ladyship! My lady! I'm so glad to see you both alive. You'd better sneak out the back. I'll cover your escape."

"Why don't you and your men come with us?"

"Nope, I'd better stay behind. More dramatic that way."

"Suit youself. Idiot." The young noblewoman and her surprisingly awesome mom proceeded to hack and slash their way through twelve regiments of Howe's troops, three flocks of drakes, and a fire-breathing revenant, until they finally arrived at the secret entrance in the larder.

Elissa's luscious rosebud mouth gaped in horror at the sight of her father bleeding out on the floor. "Daddy? What happened?"

"Howe," Bryce rasped. "He...betrayed me."

"You don't say," she deadpanned.

If either of her parents noticed the sarcasm, they didn't comment. "We've got to get you out of here, Bryce!" Eleanor gasped.

"Yeah, good luck with that," Bryce groaned, clutching his wounded chest.

Elissa silenced their worries with an imperious wave of her long, graceful hand. "Don't worry, Daddy. Duncan's here somewhere. He'll come and save us."

Right on cue, a paper airplane sailed through the window and landed in Elissa's thick and luxurious hair. "What's this?"

"There's writing on it," Eleanor noted, opening the airplane to read the letter hidden inside.

Dear Elissa,

Sorry to hear about Arl Howe's betrayal, but my sympathy is limited, as you really should have seen it coming. There's an entry-level position that just opened up in the Grey Wardens, and I've been thinking about offering it to you in exchange for sneaking you out of the castle. However, after a bit of reflection, I have elected to look elsewhere for my recruit. While your talents are ridiculously impressive, I'm afraid your unearthly beauty might prove to be a distraction to some of my men, especially my shy yet brave protégé Alistair.

Best Wishes,

Duncan


	2. Odd Man Out

Chapter Two: Odd Man Out

"Wake up, cousin! Why are you still in bed? It's your big day."

Darrian Tabris sat up, yawning widely. "Shianni? What are you doing in my room?"

His adorable redheaded cousin just giggled. "I came to tell you I saw your betrothed. She's really pretty, but it's too bad you're not a girl. Then your betrothed would be a hot guy I could check out."

By this stage in his life, the young elven man had become used to these kinds of comments. "Sorry, Shianni."

"Aw, nobody's blaming you. Go get dressed, I'll see you later."

Darrian obediently rolled out of bed and dug his wedding garb out of the only container in the house. He was in the process of buttoning up his shirt, when his father walked in.

"Good morning, son, and congratulations on your upcoming wedding!" Cyrion smiled, eyes softening in reminiscence. "You sure have grown up fast. I still remember the day you were born. The midwife placed you in your mother's arms. Adaia pushed back the swaddling clothes, looked into your eyes, and said 'Aw, nuts! I wanted a girl!' Then I walked into the room and said, 'Oh no, a boy? Male elves are so pointless. Slight stature and delicate facial features are only awesome on a woman! Maybe we should drown it and try again.' But your mother wouldn't hear of it."

"Yeah, yeah," Darrian grumbled, shrugging on his jacket. "You tell me this story every day. Can we get this show on the road?"

"All right. But first, I have something for you." Cyrion produced a package. "Your mother made these while she was pregnant with you, for you to wear on your wedding day."

Darrian opened the box, revealing a pair of exquisite leather boots. He slipped them on. "Wow, they fit perfectly! How did Mom know what my shoe size would be before I was even born?"

Cyrion shrugged. "Elven women are just that awesome. Now, then, you'd better go find Soris. That quest marker isn't going to move itself."

Darrian stepped outside, into the dank, smoky morning air of Denerim's squalid Alienage. A trio of drunken men were reciting limericks across the street. "Hey, Darrian, how's it going?"

Darrian frown disapprovingly. "You're drunk."

"Of course we're drunk! We're male Alienage elves," slurred one of the men.

"Yeah! Being scrawny and having low social status would be cool if we were girls, but everyone hates those qualities in a man," the leader of the pack sneered bitterly.

"Nobody likes us," the third man sobbed. "So we turned to alcoholism to dull our pain."

Darrian smiled sadly. "I know how you feel, but booze isn't the answer. So, did you bring me a wedding present?"

"Sure did! Here's thirty bits!"

Darrian blinked. "Your wedding gift for me is thirty cents?"

"You're welcome!"

"Well, thanks, maybe I'll buy myself half an elfroot in your honor." Rolling his eyes, Darrian headed for the center of town to find Soris. As he neared the majestic vhenadahl, he was alarmed to see his friend Nessa and her family loading their possessions onto a cart. "Oh no! What happened, guys?"

"We're leaving," Nessa's father explained. "The human who owns our building kicked us out."

"Why? Were you late on your rent? Did you set something on fire?"

"No, I think he was just doing it for the lulz. Anyway, now we have to go to Ostagar, where we will be beaten and overworked and soldiers will rape my daughter. Later!"

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I'd rather have my family beaten and raped than take help from a lowlife like you, Tabris. I mean, look at you! You're not even a girl!"

Wearily, Darrian shuffled away. As he rounded the vhenadahl, he noticed an older couple whispering behind his back. "Is that the Tabris kid?"

"I think so, he looks a bit like his mother."

"I don't know. I think he'd look more like her if he were female."

Darrian decided to spare them any further debate on the subject. "Yes, it's me, the Tabris kid."

The woman smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, we didn't mean for you to hear us talking behind your back. It's just that your ears are so much smaller and flatter than is normal for elves, we figured you must have some sort of hearing disorder."

The young groom touched his ears self-consciously. "Yeah, the other kids always used to tease me on account of these. But I think that I'll be glad to have them someday, when I have to fit my head into a battle helmet."

"Well, now that that's out of the way," the woman continued, "we're friends of your mother. We just stopped by to wish you well and give you some money we've been saving for your future." She slapped a purse full of coins into his hand.

Darrian inspected its contents quizzically. "Fifteen silvers? You call this a trust fund? A Tier One dagger costs more than that!"

"Don't spend it all in one place, now!"

"This dump is full of cheapskates," grumbled Darrian, heading for the Alienage gate.

Along the way, he spotted a crippled man with a begging cup in his hand. "Spare a bit for a man who can't work?" the beggar asked hopefully.

"One bit? That's not enough to live on. Here, take a couple of silvers," Darrian offered.

The old man burst into tears of gratitude. "Oh, Maker bless you, son! I just knew there had to be at least one decent person among all these cheapskates!"

The young groom nodded knowingly. "Tell me about it!"

"This is the worst patch in Denerim for begging! Why, sometimes it'll take me a month to save up enough for a piece of bread!"

"I know, it's terrible!" Darrian gave the man a hug. "Good luck to you, friend. I've got to go meet my cousin."

He turned the corner, and found Soris lounging against a tree. "Hey Soris, how's it going?

"Lousy," sulked the thin, spiky-haired boy. "I just saw my betrothed and she looks like a mouse."

"Well, no offense, cuz, but you're no teen idol yourself."

"Shut up!" Soris snapped. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just a little nervous about this whole "Fiddler on the Roof" marriage."

"I know," Darrian soothed. "But what else can we do? We're elven men. Girls don't find short, skinny, fine-boned guys like us attractive. If the matchmakers didn't force them to marry us, they'd all run off with human guys and our species would go extinct."

The two cousins headed back toward the vhenadahl, but were intercepted by one of the very few ugly elven women in existence. "So, you landed yourself a pretty little prize, did you?" she sneered jealously at Darrian.

"I wouldn't know, I haven't met her yet," he replied.

"Your father has the money to get you a hot wife, you spoiled brat!" She sighed wistfully. "I wish I could afford a hot wife! Uh…I mean…that didn't come out right." Cheeks flushing, the bitter woman fled.

Darrian stared after her. "I have a feeling that tirade would have made more sense if I was a girl," he mused.

But that was forgotten as the two brides approached, trailed by a gaggle of bridesmaids. Darrian smoothed back his hair, and was preparing to go introduce himself, when a trio of noblemen appeared.

"Mwahahahaha!" laughed their tall, blond leader.

"Get a load of that evil laugh," Soris snickered under his breath.

"I know," Darrian whispered, fighting a smile. "Who is he supposed to be, some kind of bad Dracula impersonator?"

"No! I'm Bann Vaughan, your friendly neighborhood stock villain," the nobleman crowed. "My friends and I are here to…eat all your puppies! Bwah hah hah!"

"This is a ghetto, stupid," Darrian snorted. "We don't have any puppies here, we can't afford them."

"Oh." Vaughan looked deflated for a moment. "Fine, then. I guess I'll have to rape all your women instead!" He turned on Shianni, slavering evilly.

"No!" The redheaded boy beside her yelped. "Please don't hurt my sister, milord!"

Darrian frowned. "Who are you, kid? Are you supposed to be another relative?"

Soris looked him over curiously. "Yeah, there's definitely a resemblance. You've got the same hair, the same skin, and the same eyes as Shianni."

"Hey, if you're my cousin too, how come I've never met you? This alienage is just a few hundred pixels wide, it's not like you couldn't have visited us!" Darrian pointed out.

The boy sniffled sadly. "I'm Shianni's older brother. I haven't met any of you because my existence was a shameful family secret. When I was born, our parents were really disappointed, because they'd been hoping for a girl. When they saw I was a boy, they decided to put me up for adoption and try again." He wiped a tear from his eyes. "I guess I should at least be grateful they sent me to an orphanage instead of drowning me at birth."

Darrian and Soris threw their arms around their long-lost kinsman, sobbing openly. "I feel your pain, little cousin!" Darrian wept. "You're not alone anymore!"

Vaughan cleared his throat loudly. "AHEM! Hello! Evil puppy-eating rapist here, about to attack your adorable little cousin." He stamped his foot petulantly.

"I don't think so, loser!" Shianni countered, smacking him upside the head with a glass jug.

"Ooh, you're gonna be sorry!" one of his toadies gloated. "I'm telling!"

"Yeah, yeah, we're shaking," Darrian sneered. "Just get your boss' corpse out of here, I'm supposed to be meeting my new wife here and I don't want a mess."

"We'll get you for this insult, knife ears, and your little dog, too!"

"For the last time, I don't have one yet!" Darrian retorted. Turning to his betrothed, he smiled apologetically. "Hi, sorry about that. I'm Darrian, your betrothed."

The girl smiled back at him. "Hello, Darrian, I'm Nesiara. I'm so glad to finally meet you."

Darrian stared at her in disbelief. "Y-you are? You mean you're not disappointed because I'm a guy?"

Nesiara looked confused. "Well, of course not. A girl kind of expects her future husband to be a guy."

"Nobody's ever expected me to be a guy before," Darrian breathed incredulously. "Maker's breath, I think I'm in love!" Unable to help himself, he pounced on the girl, kissing her passionately.

When Soris finally tore them apart several minutes later, Nesiara fought to catch her breath. "W-well, I'm flattered by your, er, enthusiasm." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "I have to go now."

Darrian glared at his cousin. "Why'd you have to interrupt us? We were getting on so well."

"Well, reason number one, you were about to be arrested for public indecency," Soris replied. "And number two, another human just walked in."

Darrian sighed. "Well, we'd better go run him off before he starts threatening to eat our non-existent puppies."

They cautiously approached the interloper, a tall, dark, and stoic warrior. To their surprise, he smiled when he saw them coming. "Hello, boys. My name is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens. I'm looking for Darrian Tabris."

Darrian raised his hand. "That's me."

Duncan's face fell. "But you're a guy."

"What d'you care?"

"I was hoping to recruit a spunky, street-smart elven maiden to add some diversity to the Wardens," Duncan explained. "The affirmative action lobby has been all over us lately for filling our ranks with rich, white humans. I figured an economically disadvantaged female elf would be just what I need to shut them up." The Warden-Commander gave a longsuffering sigh. "But there's no use crying over spilled milk."

"Bah, who needs you?" Darrian retorted. "I've got my new wife now, and she doesn't care that I'm a guy! Come on, Soris!" He towed his cousin up to the platform, where the brides had taken their place.

"Oh, good, Soris, you're here," Soris' bride took his hand.

"Yep, fellow groom in tow."

"Hello again, Nesiara, I can't wait to marry you!" Darrian took his fiancée's outstretched hand and hauled her possessively against his side. "Now we'll be together forever and ever, and I won't ever have to feel ashamed of being a guy again!"

Nesiara looked more than a little disturbed.

The priestess took her place in front of the brides and grooms. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of Crystal Dragon Jesus, to join…"

She was interrupted when Bann Vaughan and his cronies stormed back into the Alienage. "All right, it's time for me to prove who's boss! Hand over your women and your puppies, and nobody gets hurt." He pointed at several of the women in the wedding party. "I'll take those two, the one in the tight dress, and a large Diet Coke." His eyes fell on Nesiara. "Oh, and see the pretty bride!"

"Whatever." Nesiara shrugged. "You can't be any worse than this nut." She jerked a thumb at her adoring bridegroom.

"No!" screamed Darrian. "I won't let you take away the only person in the world who doesn't want me to be a girl!" He charged the bann, fists flying, but it was no use. One of Vaughan's cronies snuck up behind him and knocked him unconscious.

When he came to, Soris was hovering over him. "Are you all right, Cousin?"

"I'd better be. I haven't seen an emergency room anywhere in this alienage. Where are the women?" Darrian asked, rubbing his concussed head.

"Vaughan took them," the village elder explained helpfully. "You and Soris will have to go after them."

"What? Why? Aren't there any cops we could call on him?"

"No."

Darrian groaned. "There's an appalling lack of emergency services in this community. I think we should notify our member of the Landsmeet."

"We don't have one."

"I hate Ferelden!" Darrian looked to Duncan. "Hey, Duncan, maybe you should come with us. You've got a lot more combat experience than Soris and I do, and since you're a human, it wouldn't be as risky for you."

Duncan laughed heartily. "Me? Fight? That's a good one. No, no, I have underlings for that. Besides, it's more dramatic if you ride to the rescue yourselves."

"But—"

"Anyway, this whole dilemma is your own fault. If you were a girl, you'd already be inside the arl's palace kicking butt." There was a loud murmur of assent from the crowd.

Darrian gritted his teeth. "Isn't there anything you can do to help?"

Duncan considered this. "Hm. I guess I could lend you my sword. Here, just be careful." He handed over the blade.

The young elf looked it over dubiously. "This isn't your sword. This is a crappy iron twig. What happened to the awesome enchanted dragonbone sword and dagger set you were wearing a minute ago?"

Duncan clutched the blades in question possessively. "Keep your grubby paws off these, knife-ears, they were expensive! Besides, at second level, you won't have the strength stats to wield them anyway."

Darrian snatched the crappy sword, grabbed Soris' sleeve, and stomped off. "I'm surrounded by cheapskates," he muttered.

When the pair of grooms entered the palace courtyard, they were met by a dozen guards and a pack of mabari warhounds. "Now remember, Soris," Darrian whispered, "if anyone asks, we're here to deliver the Bann's pizza." Darrian smiled nervously, preparing himself for a persuade check. "Good morning, gentlemen!" he greeted innocently.

"It's a couple of harmless elven servant boys!" screamed the lookout. "To arms! They're clearly out for blood!"

Darrian raised his eyebrows. "Well, yes we are, but how in the Maker's name did you know that?"

The cousins proceeded to slay every guard in the house. "Cousin," Soris ventured, wiping blood from his eyes, "do you really think it's ethical to kill all these people just because their boss is a pig?"

"Well, I don't know how we can avoid it! I took two ranks of persuade, but I still haven't had a chance to resolve anything peacefully!" Darrian defended, swinging at a snarling mabari.

The pair finally reached the long hallway leading to Vaughan's quarters. Without warning, an enormous ball of fire hurtled toward them. Screaming bloody murder, they scrambled for cover. After the explosion, Darrian crawled out of the closet he had been crouching in. "You okay, Soris?"

"I think so," Soris replied, rubbing his singed eyebrows. "Why does Vaughan have a giant fireball trap outside his quarters? Wouldn't that make it a little difficult to order room service?"

"You'd think, wouldn't ya?" With a shrug, Darrian knocked on the evil nobleman's door. "Yo, open up, we've got your pizza."

"About time!" The door swung open, revealing an annoyed Vaughan. "Hey, that's not a pizza! It's a sword!" He sniffed disdainfully. "Don't expect a big tip from me."

"Darrian! " cried a battered Shianni, lying on the cold stone floor. "It's about time you showed up. If you'd been girl, you would have been here with us all along, you slacker."

"That's it!" roared Darrian. "I have had enough of this! All my life, everyone's been treating me like scum just because I'm not a girl! Only one person didn't judge me for it, and you stole her away!" He turned his blade on Vaughan. "You'll pay for that, human!"

Seconds later, the battered remains of Vaughan and his cronies were smeared on the ceiling and walls. Soris gaped at his cousin, who was covered in blood and laughing hysterically. "Darrian, you do know that we're totally going to get the axe for that, right?"

"Huh?"

"They're going to purge the Alienage when they find out what we've done!"

"Who is 'they'? We just singlehandedly massacred the bann and every soldier in his palace. Even if the arl and his men somehow make it home from Ostagar, which I doubt, how are they going to defeat badasses like us on our own turf? Especially in the Alienage, with its highly defensible urban terrain and preexisting fortifications?"

Soris shrugged. "I have a funny feeling the devs will find a way. But I'd rather not think about that right now. Let's go get the women."

Right on cue, Nesiara emerged from Vaughan's dungeon. "It's okay, Valora, you can come on up, our captor is dead!" she called down the stairs. "What a relief. Oh, thank you so much for…" She trailed off, recognizing Darrian under all the gore on his face. "Aw no, not you again!"

"Nesiara!" Darrian dropped his sword and swept her into his arms. "Thank the Maker you're unharmed, my sweet love!"

Nesiara's face began to turn blue as she struggled for breath. "D-D-Darian, you're hurting me!" she choked.

"Oh, sorry." He loosened his hold. "You just rest easy, sugarplum. Darry's here, you're safe now."

Soris looked like he was going to be sick. "Ugh. Can we please get out of here?" he asked, helping a bruised and bloody Shianni to her feet.

"With pleasure!

They marched triumphantly into the Alienage. "Good news, everybody," Darrian announced. "We killed the evil nobleman who's been raping our women and eating our puppies for all these years!"

"You stupid kid!" The village elder whacked him over the head with his cane. "What were you thinking?"

"Well, I was trying to save the—"

"Now the arl's going to have us all killed, thanks to you, you moron!"

"But you're the one who told me to—" Darrian protested.

"Shut up!" The old man silenced him with another whack from the cane.

Darrian was spared any further hypocrisy from the elder when a troop of guards marched into the Alienage. "All right, which one of you knife-ears killed the arl's son?" their captain demanded.

"I did," Darrian stepped forward, raising his hand.

"You?" The captain goggled. "But you're not even a girl!" He recovered his composure. "Well, I'm tempted to just let you off the hook. I wasn't looking forward to having to work for that little punk Vaughan when he inherited the arling. But unfortunately, the law requires me to arrest you."

Duncan chose this moment to finally be of some help. "Just a moment, captain. You can't take the elf, I'm conscripting him into the Wardens. He seems resourceful enough, even if he isn't a girl."

The captain shrugged. "Whatever. Thanks again for getting Vaughan out of the picture, kid." He gave Darrian a friendly salute and led his troops back to the gate.

Duncan shouldered his blades and motioned for Darrian to follow him. "Let's go, kid. We've got places to go and monsters to stab."

"Sorry, Duncan, but I'm staying here." He clasped Nesiara's hand tightly. "I can't leave now that I've finally found true love!"

"No, no!" Nesiara reassured him frantically. "Really, you should go with him, I don't want to stand in the way of your duty!" She shoved him toward Duncan. "Go on, fulfill your destiny!"

Darrian smiled adoringly at his betrothed. "You must really love me to make such a sacrifice. But I can't let you go through with it. I'm staying right here with you. We shall be married at once, and I'll never let you out of my sight again!"

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Nesiara screamed, running toward Highever as fast as her legs would carry her.

"Nesiara? Darling, where are you going?" Darrian bolted after her, looking puzzled. "Come on, stop playing hard to get!"

Duncan sighed. "Well, he's clearly going to have his hands full for a while. Looks like I'll have to find myself a new recruit."


	3. Two's a Crowd

"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him," lectured Knight-Commander Greagoir imperiously. "That's why I'm going to force you into a drug-induced coma, to fight for survival against a series of parasitic demons." He paused thoughtfully. "Well, that, and we Templars like to make bets on how long we think it'll take you to die. " Greagoir clapped his hands with glee. "So let's get started! Daddy needs a new pair of greaves!"

"Sorry about him," the wizened First Enchanter apologized. "I think the lyrium is starting to addle his mind. Or maybe it was the marijuana. Well, anyway, do you have any last questions for me before your test?"

Daylen Amell raised a hand timidly. "Actually, yes. What is _she_ doing at _my_ Harrowing?" He indicated the young elven woman standing beside him. "I thought these were supposed to be top-secret."

"What are you talking about? You're the one who's horning in on _my_ Harrowing," Neria Surana defended, giving her fellow apprentice a shove.

Irving insinuated himself between the pair, trying to keep things civilized. "Look, I know it's a little unorthodox, but we've got to put you two through the Harrowing together. There just isn't enough lyrium here to send you each into the Fade separately." He shot Greagoir a dirty look. "Of course, I would have had plenty for both of you, if a certain junkie who shall remain nameless hadn't decided to raid my medicine cabinet last night."

"Hey, I'm not the one on trial, here!" Greagoir defended, sweating nervously.

Irving took the apprentices aside. "Don't worry, kids, you'll do fine. The secret is to try not to get possessed."

"Hey, no outside help!" the Knight-Commander barked.

"Don't worry, that statement was absolutely no help whatsoever," Neria responded derisively.

The two apprentices stuck their hands into the basin full of goo, which somehow transported them into a realm of dreams. "Whew, what a trip," Daylen exclaimed, surveying the twisted landscape. "My vision sure did get fuzzy all of a sudden, though."

"Mine too," Neria groaned, rubbing her eyes. "I think there was something funny in that lyrium. That junkie Greagoir's probably been cutting it with Maker knows what." She sighed. "Oh well, I guess we'd better look around for those parasitic demons we're supposed to be fighting."

"Maybe they're in here," Daylen suggested, sticking his head into a vase.

"Daylen, if you keep talking like this, Irving's going to send you back to the Circle psychologist! Why would anyone look in a vase while they're searching for demons?" Neria massaged her temples forcefully. "I can't believe they made me share my Harrowing with this dork."

"Hey, there's bunch of shimmery things in here."

"I saw 'em first! They're mine!" Neria pried the vase off his head and grabbed the shimmery things possessively.

"Hey, I called dibs! Give them back!" Daylen smacked her feebly. "If we survive, I'm telling!"

From out of nowhere, a mouse appeared. Then, miraculously, the little creature transformed into a fully-grown human mage. The apprentices would have been awestruck if they'd seen any of this, but they were too engrossed in their tug-o'-war at the moment. Annoyed, the shapeshifter hurled a couple of rocks at the pair and repeated the transformation.

"Ow! Hey, what was that?" Daylen looked up, rubbing the back of his head.

"I'm not falling for—hey, look!"

The pair turned around just in time to see the mouse turn into a human yet again. "Wow!" Daylen breathed. "How did you do that?"

"Oh, any experienced mage can shapeshift if they have the proper—"

"No, no, I meant your clothes. How did you get them to transform with you?" Daylen touched the stranger's robes curiously. "Incredible!"

Neria shoved her colleague aside. "Never mind him. Have you any sage advice for us, o mighty denizen of Dreamland?"

"Yup. There's a blacksmith with a convenient armory full of weapons just north of here. Go get one. Then go visit the spikey bear to the south, and pick up a meat shield. Afterward, you'll be well-prepared for the boss fight in the center of the map."

"Finally, someone with actual advice! Thanks, mysterious stranger!" Neria flounced off to find the creatures he'd mentioned , with Daylen trailing behind her. "You there, ghostly blacksmith, give me a staff!"

"No," the ghostly blacksmith replied without looking up from his forge.

"Please?" Daylen wheedled.

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"No."

"Aw, come on!"

"No."

"You're a jerk!"

"Fine," the blacksmith tossed an iron staff in the general direction of the apprentices.

Daylen caught the weapon. "Score!"

"Hey, he was giving it to me, jerkwad!" Neria grabbed the staff, tugging insistently.

"Nuh-uh!" Daylen yelled. "Let go, it's mine!

"Fine, but you're not getting any of my magical shiny things!" Neria smirked.

"Whatever, let's just get on with it. Next stop, the spikey bear!"

The pair advanced through Dreamland, killing hostile shiny things, until they found the creature in question. "Greetings, oh mighty denizen of Dreamland," Neria began. "Do you have any sage advice for us?"

"Hell no. Go away," the shapeshifted demon replied.

Neria threw up her hands. "All these Dreamlanders are so stubborn! Daylen, maybe you should try talking to him?"

"Okay," Daylen turned to the demon, eyes wide. "Hey Porcupine-Face, how'd you get so spikey, anyway?"

"I'm supposed to be a bereskarn, idiot," the demon yawned.

"Yeah, yeah, that's great," Neria interrupted. "Now, if you'll just give us our meat shield, we'll get out of your spikes."

The porcupine bear stretched, and finally lumbered to its feet. "Fine, fine. But first, you have to answer three riddles, solve two Sudoku puzzles, and find Waldo."

Their tasks finally completed, the two apprentices marched back toward the center of the map with a tank in tow. Conveniently, now that they had everything they needed to kill it, the rage demon graciously appeared. "Ooh, you're in trouble now, kiddies! I'm gonna possess you and there's nothing you can do about it!" the fiery creature gloated.

"You won't have me without a fight!" Neria challenged, preparing to cast.

Daylen scowled. "I believe he was addressing me."

"Oh please! Why would any demon want you when it could have me?" Neria scoffed.

"All right. Let's ask him." Daylen turned to the demon. "Yo, demon! Given the choice between the two of us, who would you rather possess? Her or me?"

"Well, I promised your meat shield he could have the girl," the rage demon replied.

"What?" Neria rounded on the mouse-turned-mage-turned-bear. "I can't believe a mysterious stranger with suspicious shapeshifting powers has been misleading me all this time!"

"You told!" yelled the shapeshifter, turning on the rage demon furiously. As the pair of demons duked it out, Daylen and Neria were magically transported back to the Prime Material Pla…uh, that is, back to Thedas.

They awoke in the apprentices' dormitory back in Circle Tower. Neria blinked groggily. "Daylen, what are you doing in my bed?"

"For the last time, this is _my_ bed!" Daylen snapped.

"Then why is it in the girls' dormitory?"

Daylen considered this. "Touche."

"I think I can settle this," a scruffy male apprentice spoke up. "You see, word is that that junkie Greagoir's been embezzling funds to support his lyrium habit. So the First Enchanter didn't have enough money in the budget to buy beds for any of the new apprentices, and he's been making everyone double up."

Daylen brightened. "Hey, it's my best friend! Jowan, how are you?"

"Wait a minute." Neria looked hurt. "Jowan, you said I was your best friend!"

Jowan, who had known the contentious pair since childhood, was not going to let another one of these arguments start. "A guy can have two best friends, can't he? Now let's cut to the chase, what's the story with the Harrowing?"

"Well," Daylen began, "we had to fight a bunch of hostile shiny things, then talk to a creepy porcupine bear and—GAH!" He rubbed his arm, which Neria had just surreptitiously zapped with a lightening spell. "Hey, that hurt, and I think I lost some mana points, too! What's wrong with you?"

"The Harrowing is top-secret, dummy!"

"But Jowan's our best friend, we can trust him with—GAH! Stop zapping me!" Daylen shrieked.

"I'm the main character, and I pick the dialogue choices!" Neria snapped.

"Who says you get to be the main character?" Daylen glared. "I've got as much capacity for greatness as you do!"

"Settle down, you don't have to tell me," Jowan grumbled. "You'd better go talk to the First Enchanter, anyway. That quest marker isn't going to move itself."

In cold silence, the pair headed upstairs to Irving's office. Standing in a second-floor hallway, they found a handsome young Templar quietly brooding. He brightened as Neria approached him. "Hi, Neria!"

Neria waved. "Hey, Cullen. What's up?"

"Well, I hate being a Templar and I'm clearly in love with you, but I'd appreciate it if you'd pretend not to notice either of those things," Cullen replied shyly.

Neria considered this. "I don't know. You're awfully cute, and pretty interesting, too. But since there's no trophy for scoring with you, I guess pursuing a relationship would be pretty pointless."

Cullen sighed with relief. "Thanks, I'm glad you see it my way."

As the pair walked away from Cullen, Daylen pouted. "How come you get a secret admirer and I don't?"

"Aw, stop whining, guys always get the good love interests," Neria chided. "Would you just throw me a freaking bone this time?"

"Fine, fine." Daylen pushed open First Enchanter Irving's heavy wooden door. Inside the office, they found Greagoir and Irving arguing in front of a tall, dark, and stoic warrior.

"You can't take all the mages to Ostagar, Duncan!" Greagoir fumed. "I need them here!"

"For what?" Duncan wondered.

"To kick around so I can feel like a big man! The drugs just aren't doing it for me anymore."

Irving noticed Daylen and Neria lingering in the doorway. "We'll have to continue this discussion at another time. My prize pupil is here."

"Which one?" Duncan asked.

"Me," Neria and Daylen answered simultaneously, exchanging vicious glares.

Irving cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Welcome to the Circle, kids. You're very lucky to have full membership." He smiled. "Now, instead of keeping you locked up here under the pretense of training you, we're going to keep you locked up here for no reason at all. Isn't that exciting?"

"Don't patronize us, old man," Neria snapped.

"Fine, then just get out of here and show the Warden-Commander to his room," Irving waved them off. "And don't try to escape, we've got your DNA on file."

"So," Daylen said to Duncan as the three of them walked down the hall. "Got any news of the outside world to share with us?"

"Well, there's a Blight starting at Ostagar. It'll probably be taking over the world any day now," Duncan replied conversationally.

Neria quirked an eyebrow. "Then why aren't you down there fighting it?"

Duncan shrugged. "I have underlings for that."

"Screw the Blight," said Daylen, "I want to know who this year's Oscar nominees are."

"Sorry, I can't help you there." Duncan peered over Daylen's shoulder. "By the way, I think some guy is stalking you."

"Oh, that's just my friend Jowan," Neria replied. "He's kind of an emo. He hangs out in the shadows a lot because he thinks it makes him look mysterious."

"Oh. Well, goodnight." Duncan triple-locked the bedroom door behind him, just to be on the safe side.

Jowan finally came out of hiding. "Hey, guys, we gotta talk, but I don't want to look suspicious, so let's all skulk off to an empty room together." Without waiting for an answer, he dragged his friends into the chapel. "Okay. Now I can tell you my deep dark secret." He gestured to the priestess standing beside him. "This is my girlfriend, Lily."

Neria stared incredulously at Lily. "You're in love with that whiny emo? No accounting for taste."

Daylen nodded. "For once I agree with Surana. Are you sure she's not wearing a wire or something?"

"Shut up!" Jowan reddened.

"All right, all right, so why are you telling us all this anyway?"

"Because Jowan's in big trouble," Lily explained. "The Templars think he's a Death Eater, and they're going to sentence him to the Dementor's Kiss!"

"Yeah, so Lily and I are going to run away together," Jowan went on. "But since they've got my DNA on file, we're going to have to break into the basement and swipe my phylactery. I need you to get me a rod of fire so I can melt the door down."

"Oh, we don't need a rod of fire for that," Daylen replied. "I've already invested two points in fire spells." He regarded Jowan. "Actually, don't _you_ have two points in the fire line yourself? Why do we need the rod?"

Jowan scowled. "Because I said so!"

The pair trudged back to the corridor. "Well," sighed Daylen, "I guess we'd better go get that rod."

"Well, if you're siding with Jowan, I'm squealing to Irving," Neria declared. "Then he'll put you both in Aeonar, and I'll get my bed back!"

"Quit kidding around Neria, this is a serious…" He turned around, to find his elven counterpart already gone.

"That's right, First Enchanter," Neria tattled, "they're planning to destroy his phylactery and run away together."

"Well, you'd better go help them."

Neria blinked. "But shouldn't we be _stopping_ them? You know, zap them with a little lightning, ship them off to Aeonar, get my bed back?"

Irving shook his head. "Nah. We can wait and do that after he's destroyed his phylactery. I mean, it's not like a guy who's been studying top-secret black magic will have any special way to evade capture if we confront him."

Meanwhile, Daylen had killed a dungeon full of giant spiders, grabbed the rod, and returned to Jowan. He brightened when Neria came walking into the chapel. "You changed your mind about helping?"

"No, I'm still spying for Irving, but I seriously doubt it's going to make any difference in the end. So I guess I may as well go with the flow." The girl shrugged helplessly.

"Good enough for me," said Jowan. "Now let's go rob the enchanted blood bank!"

The four of them made their way down to the basement, where they found their path blocked by a massive door. "Well, here it goes." Daylen pressed the rod against the locks and fired away. "Nope, I've got nothing. I guess that would've been too easy."

"Oh." Jowan shrugged. "Well, thanks anyway. I guess I'll just crawl off into a hole and die. Later, everyone, sorry I wasted your time."

Neria groaned. "Jowan, what the hell is wrong with you? There's another door five freaking feet away. Jeez, are you suicidal or something?"

Daylen melted the door open with the rod. "Uh oh, looks like we're going to have to fight our way through a couple dozen ghosts to get to the phylactery chamber."

"That's odd," Neria noted. "This is a tower full of mages and paladins. You'd think that they could've dispelled the apparitions, or exorcized them, or something. It's got to be awfully inconvenient for them to have to blast through twenty hostile spirits every time they need to stick a box in the storage room."

"Go figure that one."

After blasting their way through the ghosts, the group came to a room full of weird statues. "Dude, these things are creepy," Daylen thought aloud.

"And we talk, too!" one of the statues piped up.

"AH! AH! AAAAAAAGH!" shrieked Lily.

"Let's get out of here!" yelped Neria.

"Here," said Jowan, indicating another statue. "If we put the rod of fire in here, we can use it to blast through the wall."

"You know, I _do_ have a Stonefist spell that'd work just fine, but whatever," Daylen sulked. "Nobody around here seems to think much of my magical abilities, so I'll just shut up and point the wand."

They made their way to the phylactery chamber, where Jowan triumphantly snatched up his own little bottle of blood. "Heh heh, I'll smash it good!"

"Jowan, wait!" Neria cried.

"What?" Jowan froze, looking puzzled.

Neria squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't know, it's just that, as a spy for the Circle, I feel like I should say or do something to try to keep you from destroying our only means of monitoring you."

"I appreciate the effort," Jowan replied sympathetically, "but I've still got to do it."

After smashing the phylactery, the four of them headed back upstairs, only to find Irving and Greagoir awaiting them with a squad of Templars. "There you are!" Greagoir snarled. "You know you're not allowed in the repository! You'd better not have touched my stash while you were down there!"

"Actually, Neria's working for me," Irving clarified, "but the boy's got some explaining to do." He clucked disapprovingly at Daylen. "I'm disappointed in you, son. Trying to help a close friend who is being inexplicably condemned to a fate worse than death? It's appalling! Where did I go wrong with you?"

"You're all under arrest!" announced Greagoir. "Guards, take them away."

"Hey, what about me?" Neria protested. "I've been working for you the whole time! I cooperated fully!"

"Yeah, but you killed all the guard-ghosts in the basement," Greagoir pointed out. "And I needed them to protect my stash. You're just as bad as your Death Eater friend!" He gestured to his men. "Go on, seize them!"

"I don't think so," snarled Jowan menacingly. He pulled a wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at the advancing Templars. "Imperio!"

Irving, Greagoir and the rest began helplessly dancing the Funky Chicken. "Curse you, Jowan!" screamed Greagoir indignantly.

Jowan beckoned to his lover. "Come on, Lily, let's get out of here while we've got the chance!"

Lily backed away from him, looking utterly horrified. "I'm not going anywhere with you, you lying Death Eater!"

"Lily, please!" Jowan tugged at her sleeve insistently. "We can talk this over later, but we've got to run before they snap out of it and arrest us!"

"No!"

"Lily," Daylen spoke up between dance steps, "I hate to interfere, but you really should at least try to make a break for it. Putting up with Jowan for the few minutes it would take to escape is better than spending the rest of your life in a dungeon, isn't it?"

"No!"

"I can't help but feel a little rejected here," Jowan sniffled, shuffling miserably out of the tower.

When the Imperius Curse finally wore off, Duncan was standing nearby, looking wounded. "You guys are having a dance party and you didn't invite me? Well, that's Templar hospitality for you!"

"No, actually, these two mages helped a Death Eater escape, and I was about to sentence them to a lifetime of horror in the dungeons of Aeonar." Greagoir paused. "Unless you wanted to invoke the Right of Conscription? In which case, my hands would be totally tied."

The two newly-minted Circle mages looked hopefully at the Warden-Commander, but he just shook his head. "No, I don't think so. You see, the Grey Wardens only have one opening at the moment, and these two seem to be a package deal. I mean, they dress in the same clothes, sleep in the same bed, and even seem to share a quest log." He headed for the front door. "I guess I'll just have to look elsewhere for my recruit."

"Well, that clinches it," Greagoir decided. "You two are going to Aeonar. Unfortunately, it's a little crowded right now, so you'll have to share a bunk."

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

**Author's Note:**

> I actually liked the Human Noble Origin, I just think it's been done to death. *cringes* Please don't hurt me!


End file.
